Esther looked around for something to throw but Ruth had ducked out the door too early. She shook her head as she walked over to do her checks on her babies and parents.
She’d earned the nickname within a few months of getting here as a student midwife. Because she’d already been qualified as a nurse, she’d caught a few shifts in the wards while completing her midwifery course. Truth was, Esther was never at her best on night shift. That whole ‘turn your life upside down for a few days’ thing just messed with her body and brain and tended to make her a little cranky—or crabbit as they called it in Scotland.
She’d clashed with one of the junior doctors one night on the ward when he’d continually tried to re-site an IV on an elderly patient, rather than come and ask for help. Once she’d realised he’d had four attempts he hadn’t fared well.
The whole ward had heard him getting a dressing-down, her Scottish accent getting thicker by the minute as she got angrier and angrier.
It had been 25 January. Robert Burns Day in Scotland—named after their national poet. This doctor had known that and had walked away muttering, ‘Oh, calm down, Crabbie Rabbie,’ much to her fury, and the rest of the staff’s delight.
She’d never managed to shake it off—even though she mostly kept her temper in check these days.
One of the other staff on shift wandered over. ‘Problems?’
She shook her head. ‘All stable. I’ve chased up the x-ray for Billy, just waiting for them to appear. I’m going to take Laura back along to the maternity ward. Her blood sugars are fine and she’s starting to grizzle. Must be due a feed.’
‘Okay, do that, and then go for first break. You look as if you need it. I’ll keep an eye on Billy.’
She laughed and put one hand on her hip. ‘I must be looking bad if you’re sending me on first break.’
‘Go before I change my mind.’
Esther rechecked Billy’s obs and chatted with his mum for a few minutes, making sure everything was meticulously recorded and phoning down to Callum again to chase up the x-ray. Then she gathered what she needed for Laura and threw her bag over her shoulder. Ten minutes later, Laura was back at her mother’s bedside and happily feeding.
Esther stretched out her back as she headed to the canteen. It didn’t normally bother her but today it was aching. Maybe all the extra shifts were taking a toll on her. The smell of freshly baked scones hit her as soon as she walked through the canteen doors. Two minutes later she had a large coffee and an even larger scone with butter and jam before her.
She glanced around the canteen. She couldn’t spot Carly or Chloe, the friends that she normally sat with. There was a group of other nurses that she knew, but a seat in the far corner of the room was practically crying out her name. She was too tired to be sociable.
She moved quickly and slid into the seat before anyone else claimed it. Most of the seats were hard-backed and sat around the circular tables in the canteen. But there were a few, slightly more comfortable chairs a little further away—obviously left over from a ward refurb a few years ago.
The scone was gone in minutes and as she sipped her coffee she closed her eyes for just a moment. The door nearest her opened with a bang and a large crowd of people walked in, all talking and laughing at the tops of their voices.
She gritted her teeth. Just five minutes of peace. That’s all she wanted. She shifted uncomfortably on the chair, pulling her scrub top from her skin. It seemed unusually warm in here.
The noise continued. Esther watched through half-shut eyes. There was a guy at the centre of it all. Handsome, in a TV doctor kind of way. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark rumpled hair. The rest of the people around him seemed to be hanging on his every word, occasionally throwing in a word of their own as if they hoped to garner some approval. Maybe he was some kind of TV doc?
‘This place is a hospital, not a blooming circus,’ she muttered.
She checked the clock on the canteen wall. Five minutes. She had another five minutes left of break time. Esther usually never bothered with timings. Most days she grabbed some food, bolted it down and went straight back to the NICU. But she couldn’t believe how tired she felt—it was unusual for her, she did extra shifts frequently and never felt like this—so, for once, she settled back into the chair. For once, she would take her full break.
‘Esther, Esther!’
The voice came out of nowhere. Esther jerked awake. Liz, the admin assistant from NICU, was shaking her shoulder. ‘Wake up.’
Esther sprang from her seat, knocking the still-full coffee cup that had been balanced on the edge of her chair, splashing coffee up the legs of her scrubs and sending Liz jumping backwards.
‘Oh no,’ she groaned. She gave herself a shake and glanced at the clock on the wall. She was more than fifteen minutes late.
Liz pulled a face. ‘Abi told me to come and find you. The surgeon’s arrived. He’s reviewing Billy right now.’
Esther stared down at the rapidly spreading stain on the lino beneath her feet. ‘Leave it,’ Liz said, waving her hand. ‘I’ll get it. You just go.’
Esther put her hand on Liz’s arm. ‘Thanks, Liz. I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you.’
She dashed back down the corridor towards NICU, crashing through the doors and heading straight to the sink to wash her hands. Abi was standing in the middle of a crowd of strangers that must include the new surgeon; she raised her eyebrows and said in a louder than normal voice, ‘Oh, good, Billy’s midwife is here. She’ll be able to update you.’
Esther dried her hands and moved over quickly, making her way through the crowd. ‘Hi there, I’m Esther McDonald.’ She looked around trying to decide which one of the many bodies wearing white coats must belong to the surgeon. All she knew was he was male. Abi handed over Billy’s chart and Esther could see from a glance that he’d had his chest x-ray and his tube feeding had restarted while she’d been gone. She breathed a sigh of relief.
‘You’re the midwife?’
The deep voice was practically at her ear and she jumped, stumbling over her own feet.
She spun around. Mr Imposing was standing in her personal space, his arms folded across his chest, looking her up and down in a disapproving manner. Okay, so the NICU probably wasn’t big enough for all these people, which could explain the space thing. And the massive splatter of coffee all over her scrub trousers probably wasn’t helping her appearance.
But right now she could smell his clean aftershave and see into those toffee-coloured eyes.
‘Weren’t you the nurse who was sleeping in the canteen?’
She could feel the blood rush to her face and all the hairs on her body prickle in indignation. Who did this guy think he was, sweeping in here with his giant entourage?
Nope. No way.
‘I’m sure you know that we limit visitors to NICU. Maybe other NICUs relax rules for you and your entourage, but the Queen Victoria doesn’t.’
She started to count in her head just how many people were in his little gang. She’d reached twelve when his deep voice sounded right in front of her again.
‘Isn’t this a teaching hospital? Famous the world over for its training programmes?’ There was a mocking tone in his voice.
Esther had been around long enough to recognise an arrogant